


Not the One You Know

by aeris7dragon



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeris7dragon/pseuds/aeris7dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NSFW</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dirk groaned lowly as he came to.

He didn't open his eyes right away, instead opting to feel out his immediate surroundings before viewing the less immediate ones. He was bound; that he could tell right away. The leather dug into the flesh of his arms as they held him firmly; his feet were strapped to two different poles, forcing his legs apart. His mouth wasn't free, either. Some kind of fabric stretched across it, tied at the back of his head, holding in some material that was already sticky with phlegm.

He was stretched out on what felt like a bed, soft and billowy, though no sheets or blankets covered him. And neither did anything else, for that matter; he wriggled slightly, experimenting, but felt no friction of clothing on his skin. He was completely naked.

His head ached, and it felt as though he'd just been beaten into the ground. He tried to force his memory back to before he'd blacked out, but the pounding in his head proved too painful to remember before the past two minutes.

Now he opened his eyes, and the brightness overwhelming his eyes told him that whoever had tied him up had also removed his sunglasses. He tried to be upset about this, but was finding it too difficult to feel any emotion other than complete and utter confusion. A confusion that was heightened as he heard a familiar voice.

"Well, well. It looks as if the dashing prince has finally awakened. I didn't even have to kiss you, Strider."

The voice was that of his friend, Jake English.

Dirk tried to say something before he remembered the muffling material in his mouth, and instead he turned his head to stare at the boy beside the bed through bleary eyes. He wanted to ask what was going on – wanted to demand it, actually – but as his mind ran through it, he started to understand.

Jake was sitting in a wooden chair beside the bed, smiling calmly at his captive, fully clothed, sans the denim jacket he usually wore. But his eyes held no hint of the smile that was spread across his face. Dirk scanned those green eyes, expecting hatred, or something of the sort. Instead, all he found was a bitter contempt, as if Jake was looking at a hill of ants with a magnifying glass in his hand.

Dirk found himself struggling against his bonds as Jake stood to loom over him, a furrow in his brow as he inwardly denied what was taking place. _This can't be happening,_ he thought. _This is Jake, my friend, my schoolgirl crush...he can't be..._

This thought vanished as Jake leaned over the bed, laying a cool hand on Dirk's abdominal muscles, and the blonde shivered as he felt a chill run up his spine. A chill that was an uncomfortable mixture of fear and pleasure.

"Are you trying to get away, Strider?" Jake asked, feigning ignorance with that contemptuous smile still in place. "I thought you wanted this." With that, the boy above him fluidly slid his skull-printed shirt up over his head, letting it drift haphazardly to the floor as he leaned in closer. Dirk felt the skin of Jake's chest brush against his, and he shuddered again, momentarily lapsing in his poorly-devised attempt to break free. For a moment, he he thought that this wouldn't be so bad; after all, Jake was right in his remark. Dirk had wanted this for a long, long time.

But not like this.

This wasn't the Jake he knew; whether he'd been brainwashed, or acting, for all those years, this wasn't the Jake he'd fallen in love with. Dirk strained at the leather, shaking his head violently as Jake came in close to stare down at him. The smile hadn't faded.

"I knew it was a mistake to gag you. As if anyone could hear you if you called for help; after all, we're on an uninhabited island." With that, calloused fingers drifted behind Dirk's head to pull at the knot tied there. Dirk sucked in a breath, ready to start yelling at Jake as soon as the fabric fell away, but he never got the chance.

Jake's chapped lips silenced him before he could speak, stifling anything he was about to say, a tongue roughly forcing his mouth open and rubbing up against the roof of his mouth. And then one of those hands was around his neck, forcing him to gag and gasp for air in between rough kisses. He tried not to kiss back, but he discovered the pressure was relieved from his throat when he did, so he reacted in kind; if only to save his own life.

The lips were gone now, but the hand remained, now cutting off his air supply almost completely. Dirk wheezed and coughed, frantic for oxygen, but after a few minutes of this he began to give up, barely aware that Jake had returned to kissing him. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, however, he was released, and lay there for a few moments, sucking in huge breaths, while Jake stared down at him with glazed-over eyes.

 _Why isn't he doing anything?_ Dirk thought in the back of his mind as he got his breathing back under control. _He has me at his mercy. He could do anything he wanted with me and I wouldn't be able to fight back. Why is he hesitating?_

Jake hovered over him, the four or five inches of his coarse black hair forming a curtain framing his tan face as he stared. The smile had become a ghost playing around the corners of his lips.

"Get off of me," Dirk ordered in a hoarse, painful voice, not even expecting Jake to obey. He didn't, in fact; just the opposite, the weight of his body relaxing against his victim's, Dirk's chest constricting as Jake pressed against it. His heart gave a small bounce as calloused fingers rolled the brown-pink nub of his nipple, and the gasp he gave was breathy and contained a hint of a moan.

Jake's smile returned, and he leaned down to take Dirk's mouth again. But the latter turned his head to the side. His eyes were beginning to well up; there was a lump in his throat that wasn't just attributed to his recent throttling.

"Why?" he hissed, the word barely audible, even to himself.

"I beg your pardon, old bean?" There was that lilt to his voice again, the sing-songy voice he had used before. That only made Dirk's eyes cloud further.

"Why?" he repeated, more loudly. "Why are you doing this? Who are you?" He turned back to Jake, the tears of betrayal spilling over to flow down either side of his face.

"I'm Jake, your internet buddy from several years past," he answered, and Dirk swore he heard a dark chuckle embedded deep within his voice.

"You know what I mean."

Jake's eyes narrowed, and his grin broadened. "I'm afraid I don't have the slightest inkling." Then his hand reached out, gripping Dirk's face roughly and firmly to prevent him from moving away this time as Jake dipped down. The kiss was even more rough this time, if that were possible; his tongue delved deeper, tickling the back of Dirk's throat and causing him to gag, and the other hand, the one that wasn't holding his face still, was reaching down, and...

Dirk's breath, or what was left of it, caught in his throat as Jake's fingers caressed him, deceptively gentle. Then his hand jerked, and Dirk let out what was meant to be a cry of pain but turned into a muffled whimper. Then the hand was gone. Dirk allowed his eyes to close, willing for this all to go away, as he heard the slight metallic grinding of a zipper and felt the denim of Jake's shorts slide down and away. A cold knee was pressing in between his legs, and he whimpered again, still unable to wrench his face free of Jake's.

Jake pulled away, but remained close, their faces a mere centimeter apart. Dirk gave one more, feeble tug at his bonds, but they were secured too tightly; his arms were going numb and tingly with the lack of circulation. Jake let out a small breath of laughter, his piercing eyes staring right into Dirk's blurred ones.

"You're scared, aren't you?" he breathed, warm air whispering over Dirk's clenched lips.

"You couldn't tell?" Dirk tried to play that statement off as if he couldn't care less, but his cracking voice betrayed him. Jake laughed again, then slid backward to sit on Dirk rather than lay on him, and Dirk realized that now Jake was also completely naked.

Jake's smile was no less than a smirk now, and that smirk was more impish than any smile Dirk would have ever guessed he would wear. He slid back further, and now he was sitting on the bed between Dirk's legs with a hand on each of his thighs.

"You ready?" Jake asked, and Dirk could tell he wasn't serious about asking. Whether Dirk was ready or not wasn't the issue here, and both of them knew it. Dirk's tears hadn't slowed down in the least, and he shook his head, offering one last plea.

"Jake," he whispered, and all the desperation he could muster went into that one word.

His former friend ignored him, and Dirk could feel something at the entrance, easing its way in just a bit. He let out a small sob, completely forsaking anything resembling the facade he used to have, and tried to prepare himself.

He failed miserably.

Cold hands gripped his sides as Jake thrust suddenly and roughly. Dirk let out a cry of pain as it happened. He tried to let his mind wander, so he could be anywhere but here, but he didn't succeed. All he could think of was how this was all he ever wanted – Jake's presence surrounding him, filling him, penetrating him in a figurative and literal sense at the same time. But it was all wrong.

This was not the Jake he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at writing smut outside RP (which I don't indulge in very often). Also, Jake's scaring me. And I wrote him this way!!! O.o


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anyone can get the V for Vendetta reference in there, you get a cookie.

Jake hadn't wanted to do anything.

He couldn't remember how it had happened; all he knew was that he'd eagerly anticipated the arrival of his friend on his solitary island, and then was overwhelmed with thoughts of how best to punish him. Punish him for what, Jake didn't know; but he did know he'd entertained these thoughts not with the air of curious speculation, but of intention to execute.

Dirk was doomed the moment he stepped foot off the ferry. Jake greeted him with a broad smile, keeping himself in check until the small watercraft was out of sight. Then, when the both of them had started their customary fisticuffs – customary for Jake, anyway, though he was curious as to how his guest could handle himself in a fight – Jake's intention wasn't to get Dirk to cry uncle. Which seemed to make all the difference, as Dirk fell unconscious, victim to the butt of a hefty pistol.

Jake couldn't help the sneer that crept across his face.

Now, though...now the sadistic mindset he hadn't realized was taking him over was gone, and he looked down at what he'd done. A hair-breadth strand of white fluid was the only thing connecting him to Dirk, who was now fully conscious and sobbing uncontrollably.

 _What in the name of all that is holy have I done?_ Jake thought, horrified, as he backed up hastily and slid off the foot of the bed. He hurriedly gathered the clothing that lay strewn across the floor, and couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

When he returned minutes later, fully dressed, Dirk had stopped crying. But he was still trembling, staring up at the poster-coated walls with vacant orange eyes.

He didn't look at Jake, not even when the boy unbuckled the leather belts that held Dirk's arms to the headboard. Not even when he repeated the action with Dirk's bound legs. Not even when Jake pulled a blanket from the closet in the far corner to cover him with.

Not even when he stood beside the bed, feeling helpless, staring down at the victim of his sin with a more-than-apologetic expression.

"Dirk," he whispered, the earlier dark confidence gone, and Dirk finally looked at him when he picked up on the tremor in his voice.

"What do you want?" Strider's voice was hoarse and deliberately emotionless, but the bluntness with which he spoke served to stake Jake through the heart.

"Nothing," he blurted. "I don't want anything. I didn't want this. I – "

"Then why?"

"I don't know." With that, Jake sank to the hardwood floor, feeling more naked than he had when he actually was. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what happened." He folded in on himself, covering his face with his hands and grinding his glasses into his eyes.

Dirk remained silent, but Jake could feel orange eyes on him, and willed that they burn him alive with their intensity. When no righteous fire served to set him alight, he shrank further, leaning forward until his head was buried in the blankets hanging off the edge of the mattress.

"You're one hell of an actor," he finally heard. "Think you've been watching too many movies." Dirk betrayed no hint of emotion, even though Jake knew he wanted to. He could practically feel the waves of emotion rolling off him; a mixture of hatred, betrayal, and some small hint of the love Jake knew the other boy still felt for him. But it was mostly hatred and betrayal.

"Believe what you will," Jake replied. "I'm not going to correct you. Anything I say will only sound like an excuse."

"You're right."

They were both silent again for a time, Jake's fingers clenching the blankets he was leaning against as a spot of wet tears spread on the fabric. He was weeping unabashedly now, ashamed for what he'd done. He hated himself with a deep passion, but more than that, he was more than a little empathetic toward Dirk.

The mattress jostled a bit as Dirk got up, but Jake paid no heed until, a few minutes later, there was someone behind him. Dirk had found his clothes and thrown them on before kneeling behind Jake and taking him into his arms.

"Don't touch me," Jake whispered half-heartedly, but Dirk didn't withdraw.

"You wouldn't get off when I told you to. I'll touch you all I want, you sick bastard." With that, Dirk's arms squeezed around Jake's shoulders, and the latter felt even more ashamed – if that were at all possible.

"Why do you want to?"

"Oh, trust me, it's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to throttle you like you did me. Thing is, I'm gonna be the adult here, and not give in to temptation. You got that?"

Jake was silent, but he nodded, burying his face further into the blankets with a small wish to asphyxiate.

However, after a few moments he became aware that Dirk's body pressing against his own was triggering a relapse. A relapse into the person he'd never wanted to be, and never wanted to again.

"Get off me," he said, a little more frantically, and Dirk sensed this tone and relaxed his grip a little.

"No," he replied, however.

"Dirk, get the everloving fuck off of me before I tie you up again." He didn't want to threaten him, but he really needed Dirk to back off. As well as the fact that it wasn't an empty threat; if he became _that perso_ again, he knew that was what would end up happening. Miraculously, Dirk backed up, his arms sliding down Jake's back as he stood.

"Don't joke like that," Dirk murmured.

"Dirk, listen to me. I didn't want to hurt you. I truly didn't." Jake took a deep breath, remaining on the floor but staring pleadingly up into Dirk's carefully blank eyes.

"Then why did you?"

"It wasn't me!" Truthfully, it wasn't; though it only took until now for Jake to realize it. He recalled how it felt to have Dirk at his mercy, and it had felt good; but there had also been a nagging thought in the back of his mind, one that said, _This is wrong._ As if his rational mind had been the lone spectator of a two-man play. As if he wasn't in control of himself; as if someone else had been pulling the strings.

He'd been a puppet.

"It wasn't you," Dirk stated in a flat, disbelieving tone. His expression turned into one of confusion as Jake reached for the nightstand to pull open a drawer, then one of fear as Jake's hand withdrew from the drawer holding a small pistol.

"No. It wasn't." He reached for Dirk's hand, and when he pulled back, Jake stood and grabbed it by force.

"Let go of me," Dirk hissed.

Jake shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not anymore." He punctuated this promise by curling Dirk's fingers around the grip of the gun, and looked up into his confused eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"It's not about what I'm doing." Jake took a deep breath and brought Dirk's hand up, aiming the pistol at the center of his chest. "I don't want to become that person again," he whispered. "Please. Dirk. I don't want to hurt you again."

Dirk's hand shook. "You're asking me to kill you, and you're not expecting it to hurt me?"

"If I try, he'll probably take over and have you shoot yourself instead," Jake replied. "I don't want to risk that."

"Who the fuck is 'he'?" Dirk demanded.

"I don't know. But I don't want to let him win, either."

"Win. Like it's a game," Dirk stated flatly. His hand was still shaking, and Jake held it firmly to point the barrel straight at his chest.

"Please."

Finally, Dirk's orange eyes held some hint of emotion. "Jake, I don't want to kill you," he breathed.

Jake didn't say anything verbally, but conveyed it with his eyes. He didn't want to die, either. But it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative. He would have thought he'd rather die than hurt and betray his friends, but since the latter seemed to have already happened it was time for the former to transpire.

"Jake – "

"Please."

Dirk squeezed his eyes shut in indecision, tears leaking from the corners, and his hand would have trembled more fiercely had Jake not been holding it still. And then he did something Jake wasn't expecting him to: he leaned forward and kissed him. Not forcefully, but longingly; despairingly. Jake kissed back, careful not to be too rough; he'd already caused enough problems like that.

They stood like that for a few moments, tasting each other's tears, neither opting to use anything other than their lips. The time for intimacy was long past; it was now time for tenderness.

They were still kissing when the shot reverberated through Jake's body, just missing his heart to embed itself in a lung, and he choked, breaking away from Dirk as blood bubbled up in his throat. He coughed, and he was vaguely aware of Dirk tossing the gun aside to lift Jake and lay him on the bed.

He tried to breathe, but couldn't; so instead, he concentrated on Dirk, the blonde's sad eyes blurred; though Jake couldn't tell if that was from the pain, or from Dirk's own tears. He felt gentle fingers brushing the hair from where it had fallen into his eyes, beneath the glasses, and gentle lips taking his again despite the blood.

He feebly pushed at Dirk, and though he couldn't have budged the boy in his current state he felt the kiss break. He coughed up more blood, trying to clear his throat so he could say one last thing.

"I...I love you..." he whispered, specks of blood propelled up and dotting Dirk's face. The other smiled sadly at him, and leaned down again, but this time to lay beside him and take him into warm arms. For which he was grateful, because it was starting to get cold.

Or maybe it was just him.

He felt air stir in his hair, and was vaguely aware that Dirk was speaking now.

"I love you, too, Jake."

His strength had all but gone now, and he lay limp in Dirk's arms, his breathing irregular and labored. He felt a hand threaded between the strands of his hair, combined with Dirk's exhalations. His hand went up to rest gently on the arm across his chest that was covering the bloody hole there.

He was scared, but as he took in the breath he knew was his last, he felt a strange release; as if there had been something in his mind his whole life, that he'd grown accustomed to, that had now relinquished its hold.

Jake exhaled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey dirk i bought you a gun
> 
> YAY
> 
> and now you kill me
> 
> NNNNOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> (anyone who gets the LittleKuriboh reference in this note gets a cookie, too.)


End file.
